Tales of Topkapi
by TheThirdReviewer
Summary: Short stories set in the Ottoman Empire. Ratings and genre will change. Rated T because this is the highest it will go.


**Rating: K**

**Genre: Family**

**Summary: While Sadiq is away, a thunderstorm terrifies the younger nations. Elisaveta attempts to restore some order.**

Elisaveta Hédeváry was slowly going insane.

As the only mature, responsible nation (well, sort of) left in the house, she had automatically been expected to keep the younger nations calm in Sadiq's absence.

Easier said than done. Especially with the sudden thunderstorm that had blown up out of a hot, heavy day.

How was she to know that so many of the young nations were scared of storms?

Little Ali was lying with his head buried in his pillow; Bahir and Tariq were clutching each other's hands, trying to look brave because 'big boys don't cry'; Mitra was in the corner with her hands over her face; Natalya, Katyusha and Gabrijela were curled up in the same chair; Feliks was gripping on to Elisaveta's skirt; and Heracles was crying and hiding under the blankets on Sadiq's bed, surrounded by his cats.

At least some of the teenage nations seemed relatively calm, and were trying in vain to help re-establish some order.

Gupta was pulling Yamina away from the window, because the rain was coming in through the glassless opening and she was getting wet. Nasr was clinging to his other hand.

Aviva was trying to be everywhere at once, doing everything with Jamal, her little cousin, firmly attached to her hand.

Where was Sadiq, anyway? He had to choose this night, out of all nights, to disappear. Once you built an empire, you had a duty to the countries you colonised. You had to look after them. The Turk had never seemed to understand that.

Elisaveta went over to Heracles. The terrified little boy resisted all attempts to dislodge him from under the blankets.

"Mm-mo-mommy! I want my Mommy!" He sobbed, clinging to a pillow with one arm and one of his cats with the other.

"Hush, Hera, she's dead, don't you remember?"

"No! I wanna go home!"

"Oh, Hera, how many times do we have to explain this to you? This _is _home, at last for now."

"No. Want Gupta."

"Okay, that we can do. Gupta!" She summoned the Egyptian to her side. "He wants you. Look after him, _please_." As Gupta attempted to care for the little Greek, Elisaveta went rushing off, her skirts swirling in the wind that blew right through the room.

"Sadiq, Sadiq, _please _come home soon. I need help. _Adult _help."

Suddenly, a particularly strong gust of wind blew the room, extinguishing all of the candles.

Mitra screamed.

"It's okay, Elisaveta, I've got her! Get us some light!" Aviva shouted, as if she was afraid her voice wouldn't carry as well in the dark. Or maybe she just liked shouting.

Elisaveta had learned that when one was around Aviva, it was best not to resent being ordered around by a teenager. Subtlety was not the Jewish girl's strong suit. Besides, she made a good point. Being in the dark was not exactly improving the situation.

She fumbled for a match, managing to light the candle closest to her. From there, it was an easy step to light the rest of them.

With the return of light, cam the return of relative quite.

Then the door slammed open, causing most of the assembled nations to jump and shriek.

A tall man with messed-up hair, a slight beard and a white mask entered in a swirl of raindrops.

"Sadiq!" Elisaveta shrieked. "Finally! Where have you _been_?"

"What's everybody freaking out about? It's justa storm, ya know."

**Nations in this story:**

Elisaveta–Hungary

Sadiq–Turkey

Ali –Jordan (OC)

Bahir –Saudi Arabia (OC)

Tariq–Iraq (OC)

Mitra–Iran (OC)

Natalya–Belarus

Katyusha–Ukraine

Gabrijela–Georgia (OC)

Feliks–Poland

Heracles–Greece

Gupta–Egypt

Yamina–Yemen (OC)

Nasr–United Arab Emirates (OC)

Aviva–Israel/Jewish people (OC)

Jamal–Palestine (OC)

**Notes:**

Israel and Palestine: In my headcannon, they still have a pretty good relationship at this point in time. It's only later that they become enemies.

The glassless windows and the candles: I think the Topkapi Palace, where they are living, would have been pretty old-fashioned in this respect.


End file.
